An open letter to Arvind Kejriwal

Dearest Arvind,
Congratulations to you and your party.
I’m not writing this as an AAP supporter; rather as another angry youth of this nation, fed up of dirty politics, unaccountable government and who wants genuine change in the Indian political landscape.

I remember a popular saying by Mahatma Gandhi,
“First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, and then you win!”

How aptly it suits you. For a person who has been trolled, slapped, inked upon, made to scale Himalayan odds, just because he wanted a genuine change, the Delhi mandate is a fitting tribute.

Now that you've been forgiven and given a second chance, you must start building a government that is accountable and responsible. The mandate has clearly shown that AAP has not lost its credibility, in fact it has gained much more.

Three things I would like to emphasize,
Firstly, the next immediate aim for AAP must be to provide stable governance and not aggressive expansion, banking on the landslide victory. You must have already learnt the perils of instability by fielding 400 candidates in the 2014 General Elections and winning a mere 1% of them. You must first prove your worth and deliverability in Delhi, stabilize as a political party, develop an agenda and a strong political philosophy. You must also understand that an organization only grows gradually and impatience only leads to its self-destruction.

Secondly, you must deliver on the ambitious promises made in the manifesto: free Wi-Fi, emphasis on sports, health, education and general welfare of the aam aadmi. Hope you don’t make your manifesto as another cliché like many parties do.

Thirdly, I admire Bedi’s valor in defeat, for that she has extended her good will to AAP and also the Delhi people. Interesting to see how BJP would emerge in the Bihar elections from the shackles of its worst ever electoral defeat (excluding 1984 General Election, of course).

This is just the beginning.
With love from Tamil Nadu, way to go AAP.

Whispers Within

It was mid-day. The sun was above the horizon, pouring in heat so much as though it was it's last day. Pulling the huge cart carrying over 100 kilos of rice bags, my palms were crying out in pain. My vest was fully drenched , my face and arms soaked in sweat as though I came straight out of a pond after a bath. Walking on the road bare foot was like lying on a bed of thorns, lit on fire. My arms asked me to stop, but deep within I knew that if I stopped, Sarah would have to go to bed empty stomached. Sarah, my little sister , the only family I've left of is my motivation and the sole reason why I was alive today.

While I toiled my way along the scotching road, I heard someone call out in the distant background, "Aalim!", "Mohammed!". I ignored the call as pain kept my body per-occupied.

As I delivered my cart at the destination, I noticed the mosque opposite was abuzz with people. The board above read "Shahi Masjid, Mount Road". A sea of humanity pouring in and out, the loud speakers blaring out the sacred chants, pigeons perching on the structure dominated by Islamic architecture.

I was wondering why these people believed in something that didn't even have a proof that it existed. I had completely lost faith on god, on my religion Islam. If there was really a god, he wouldn't have taken away my mother and father when I was at an age where I couldn't even comprehend death. If there really was a god, he wouldn't have left me suffer when I was supposed to bathe under my parents' care. Would there be a god, why did he leave me and Sarah orphaned? The ideology of god and the philosophy of Religion made no more sense to me, and I only made a silent mockery of those people, deep within every cell of my body burning in anger.

And then I saw her; that little girl, of the same age of Sarah. Her face was gleaming with joy, eyes wide open as saucers and a curve on her lips as beautiful as the moon. She was coming out of a toy store, clasping a barbie doll. It seemed like it was her birthday.

Deep within, guilt started to take it's turn. I chocked. My mind became void. How long had it been since I saw that joy on Sarah's face, I asked myself. Afterall,it too was her birthday today.

I reached out to the pocket of my loose and heavily soiled shirt. As though I would find some treasure, I dug out deeper into my torn pocket, only to find a single old five rupee note. I wanted to gift Sarah a chocolate.

What I did next, the next few minutes, changed my life forever - eternally. The busy road was never devoid of public transport buses. I walked up to the nearest bus stop as though there was no soul in my body and waited there. I waited for a bus that was heavily crowded. I boarded, destination unknown. Somehow, a strange feeling crept in. I felt like all the people around me seemed very happy. It seemed like I was the only one toiling.

And then I saw him. Clad in a blue stripes shirt, tucked in, he seemed to be in his early twenties. He had his head phones on. I moved close to him, as though he were my acquaintance. I couldn't resist seeing the smile on Sarah's face had I took out his wallet! Yes, I wasn't ashamed of what I was thinking. Somehow, what I was going to do felt perfectly morally justified to me.

My heart pounded. I began to sweat. My legs started to tremble. My hands began to shiver. I cautiously reached out to his back pocket, with eyes wide open making sure nobody was watching me. I slipped my hand into his pocket, clasping his fat wallet gently but firmly.

My blood flowed so fast that I felt it speed past my legs and arms. I almost took out the bulk wallet out of his pocket. Every inch the wallet came out of his pocket, I was an inch closer to seeing Sarah smile. It was a cocktail of emotions influencing my mind.

I had almost made it. It was when I, along with the rest of the bus hear someone scream "Pick Pocket!". And at that moment I realised it was the end of me and I was going home with fractured bones and bruised face. Responding to the scream, the whole bus stared at me, while my hand was still inside his pocket. Fear gripped me, my body froze and I watched helplessly as everyone around me prepared themselves to thrash me.

Amidst all this drama, I almost forgot to notice how calm and unshaken that man was. He displayed no visible signs of anger nor did he have any intention to harm me. As I laid there standstill making up my mind, the beatings had already begun. That's when he swung into action. He not only stopped them from beating me up, but looked straight into my eyes. Grabbing his wallet from my hand, he swiftly opened it and rigourously searched it. What he did next changed my entire perspective.

He took out a ₹1000 note and handed over it to me. As the people around me stood in amazement at his unbelievable composition and his paramount act of kindness, my eyes started to water. I felt as though something heavy was pushing me to the ground. Guilt gripped me tight and hard.

That day many things changed in me. I realised that god didn't live in the stone statues, not in the heavens, god didn't live on the printed images, not in the idols kept at home. Instead, god lived within the kindness that one could show to another. What god couldn't teach me, what religion couldn't teach me all these years, a complete stranger has taught me. Afterall, god lived within us, each and every one of us. We're all gods. Let us be kinder to one another. From that day, I was not the same Aalim Mohammed.

-Aditya Arun.V

The Anniversary

It was half past six in the morning as the alarm went off. The usually annoying sound of the alarm bell didn’t sound as annoying today to both George and Linda. They swiftly got out of their beds and made their way out of the room.

George was reading the newspaper as Linda came out of the kitchen with two cups of hot coffee. The strong smell of coffee filled the entire living room, that George closed his eyes, as though he had forgotten that he was reading a newspaper, inhaling the strong aroma. He reached out to Linda, just as he was about to kiss her, and whispered into her ears, “You make the best coffee in the world, Linda”, rolling her curly hair onto his fingers. Linda blushed. And all of a sudden, George raised from the sofa, facing her, he yelled, “I love you!”

“Sssshhh!” Linda said, frowning a bit.

“Natasha is still asleep. You might wake her up” said Linda, pointing to their two year old daughter. 

George was a tall  and sturdy man. Linda, on the other hand, was not as tall as George. She had that stunning curly hair, as silky as her eyes, and may be that’s why George fell for her while they were at college. 

That morning, one conversation led to the other and suddenly the clock was pointing at  8 o’clock. Having realised that, they both rushed to get ready. 

“Get ready soon or we’ll be late” yelled George. 

Linda wore a stunning blue gown with a white pearl necklace and a seducing perfume. She made George’s eyes pop. He looked at her as though he saw her for the first time. 

Natasha had woken up by then and care-taker Mathilda was feeding the baby. Mathilda was a trust-worthy woman, with whom George and Linda left their daughter when they were out of house.

As they climbed into their car, Linda leapt and kissed Natasha on her little hands. The pair bid bye to Natasha and Mathilda.

“Aren’t you excited that we would be meeting all our college friends today after one long year?” asked George. 

Linda smiled vibrantly and nodded.

They drove for half and hour, away from the busy streets and dusty roads, reaching the city outskirts. And then something suddenly seemed to happen. 

Everything looked hazy. Foggy.

Stopping the car, they peeped out of the window and saw tombstones all over. It was a grave yard. But why would anyone plan a college get together at a grave yard?

Still sitting in the car, they saw that their friends had already arrived. Linda felt so happy seeing them all. All men were wearing black suits and all women were wearing black gowns. And to their surprise, Mathilda was there too! And she was holding Natasha!

In pure commotion, Linda asked George, “How could this be possible? We just saw them off at our house moments ago!”.

Linda also realised that Natasha seemed grown up than usual. They were not the same little hands she had kissed moments back. May be all of this was her imagination.

The pair climbed out of the car and walked towards the gathering. 

Linda and George yelled to their friends but nobody seemed to care. All were busy holding roses and lighting candles. Even Natasha didn't smile or laugh seeing her parents. Nor did Mathilda greet them, instead their eyes were looking at one particular tombstone. Linda had a strange feeling that everything was fast forward one year.

With her mind reeling in turmoil, Linda reached out to George, asking him what exactly was happening. But George was in no mood for that. His eyes were transfixed on something. A banner of some sorts.

Pointing at the banner with his cold hands, George said to Linda, “Read it”.

Linda became pale, as she read out, “Remembering George and Linda on their first Death Anniversary. May their souls rest in peace.”

   

                                 THE END

                                                                   - Aditya Arun